


Operation Lifesaver

by soobiscuits



Series: Operations! [4]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6741490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soobiscuits/pseuds/soobiscuits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of how a sun-kissed transfer becomes Sehun's new best friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Operation Lifesaver

**Author's Note:**

> Because I kept forgetting to crosspost this, and needed to see Sekai's standees at Artium (yes I'm in Seoul!) to remember. 
> 
>  
> 
> Crosspost #6

_ “B-Bye, Hunnie!”  _

 

_ “N-No! No! C-Come back, B-Bel! Come back! Come–” _

 

Sheets rustle noisily and a figure shoots up. 

 

–back.” 

 

Silence. Then, a loud groan. A hand comes up to rake itself through short, soft tresses while bewildered facial features, slightly illuminated by the rays of moonlight streaming through a window, gradually dissolve into resignation and annoyance. 

 

“Ugh, not again!” 

  
  


\---

  
  


_ “You shouldn’t be having these nightmares anymore, Hun.” _

 

Sehun scoffs, tucking his phone between his ear and shoulder, freeing his hands to dig into his bag for his house keys. His fingers close around an object, and the corners of the boy’s lips twitch, easily pulling upwards into a small, knowing smile.  _ Habits die hard, no matter how many years it has been.  _ Sehun’s keys jingle as he emerges with them, and he quickly unlocks his front door before toeing off his shoes. 

 

“As if I–,” Sehun replies, his fingers fumbling with the socks on his feet as he tries to remain balanced on one foot at a time. He manages to remove them without falling over, dropping them into the laundry hamper whilst passing by the kitchen en route to his room. “–don’t know that.”

 

Sehun would have missed hearing a sigh if he hadn’t decided to drop his bag onto his bed instead of its usual spot beside his desk, and frankly, he wishes he’d never heard it. Hearing this sound stemming from negative emotions makes Sehun feel guilty, and he feels even more so after realising that he’s been hearing similar sighs over the past few weeks ever since he decided to confide his problem in her. 

 

Yeah,  _ her _ . 

 

“Bel…”

 

_ “Alright! Alright… I’m sorry for sighing even though you keep telling me not to.”  _ A pause.  _ “But I can’t help myself. I can’t help feeling worried for you because in case you’ve forgotten, I’ve moved away for almost three years now, and you’ve never had them. Until now. At fifteen years old.”  _

 

Sehun knows where this conversation is going. 

 

_ “Something’s probably wrong.” _

 

He bites back a sigh, and forces himself to stay on the phone even though he very much wants to hang up. But he won’t. Sehun knows how much these daily phone calls mean to his childhood friend (and himself). Ever since his mother kindly provided the information that Isobel’s gotten herself a phone a year back ( _ psh, how late;  _ Sehun got his two years back), he’s been pestering the woman to ask their ex-neighbour for the girl’s number and finally,  _ finally  _ after a month of dishwashing duty, he grins at the new number in his contacts.

 

To say that Sehun had been nervous when he texted her, for the first time after two years of supervised household-phone calls, is an understatement. He usually doesn’t swear, but when Isobel replies, the boy yells a  _ fuck yeahhhhhhh!  _ (and gets hollered at by his parents). 

 

And as seconds, minutes, and hours bleed into days, months, Sehun finds himself thinking that  _ hey, it's as though we've never drifted apart at all _ . 

 

“There is–”

 

_ “I can’t hear anything over the loudness of your DENIAL!” _

 

But then again, sometimes Sehun wishes that he'd never persevered through that one month of dishwashing. 

  
  


\---

  
  


“Sorry, but can I borrow a pencil?”

 

A voice travels to Sehun’s right ear and he faintly feels a slight nudge to his arm, gently rousing him from his nap (that he isn’t supposed to be taking but  _ what the heck it’s free period _ ). The boy props his cheek on his knuckle and groggily blinks. “Huh?”

 

“Sorry to wake you up but I really need to borrow a pencil but none of our classmates were kind enough to lend me one.” 

 

Sehun nods, fingers skimming across the surface of his school desk towards his pencil case. He attempts to search for his pencil but with sleep still clouding his eyes, Sehun lets out an annoyed growl when he just can’t seem to find it. He’s about to tear the poor fabric case apart when a pair of hands in a healthy tan appear in his vision and removes the source of his frustration from his hands.

 

“Here, let me.” 

 

And before he knows it, the case is back on his desk and from the corners of his bleary eyes, Sehun spies his pencil being twirled by those tanned fingers. He blinks rapidly, desperately wanting to dispel the sleepiness in his orbs to get a better look at the owner of such manly digits, and when he finally does get rid of his blurry sight, Sehun barely bites back a  _ woah _ . 

 

“You’re Sehun, right?” The stranger pipes up, eyes, round and full of curiosity, darting upwards to look at Sehun. His lips pull into a smile, no teeth, yet Sehun feels the friendliness emanating from such a simple gesture. He finds it hard to not return the favour. 

 

“Y-Yeah, I am.” 

 

“Cool.”

 

“I haven't seen you before, so you are…?” 

 

The person’s eyes blow wide– 

 

“Oh.” 

 

–before returning to their normal size. “Sorry, I just transferred here today, and since we haven't had any lessons yet, no one knows me.” Sehun’s breath hitches when the smile widens, and white teeth peek through those lips. “I've forgotten to introduce myself.” 

 

Sehun watches with slight apprehension as the stranger puts down his pencil and wipes his tanned fingers on his uniform, causing Sehun to wonder if  _ his hands are sweaty…?  _ But it’s totally not the case because when Sehun grips one, for he’s surprised to feel dryness, as well as a bout of warmth that reminds Sehun of the sun. And the smile of his childhood friend (whom he hasn’t seen in almost three years). 

 

“I’m Jongin.”

 

The smile continues to widen to that of a (damn handsome) crooked smirk, and Sehun  _ just  _ knows that he’ll be seeing a lot of this.

 

“Kim Jongin.”

  
  


\---

  
  


_ “How’s your new friend, Hun?” _

 

The boy ignores the warning blaring in his head to scathingly grumble, “Calling for the first time after almost a week and you ask about a stranger instead of your dear old friend.” 

 

Isobel’s next statement tells Sehun that he should always,  _ always  _ listen to his brain. 

 

_ “I'm hanging up. Bye Oh Sehun.” _

 

And hanging up is what she does for a split second later, the dial tone is all that Sehun hears. He curses, and debates between throwing his phone onto his bed while he continues to be enslaved to his homework,  _ or  _ to call back and be enslaved to his best friend’s, no doubt, onslaught of questions pertaining to his  _ new friend _ . 

 

The answer’s pretty obvious, if you know Oh Sehun well enough. 

 

_ “It took you two minutes to call me back. Your times are getting longer, Hunnie.”  _

 

“Be glad I even called you back at all, ingrate Lee.” Sehun shoots back, and ignores the loud scoff from the other end of the line. 

 

_ “Very funny, Oh Sehun.”  _ Isobel deadpans, but quickly dives back into the purpose of the call.  _ “But really, how’s Jongin as a friend?”  _

 

The question shouldn’t shock Sehun per se, since it’s the first thing his childhood friend had asked the moment he picked up her call (Sehun was honestly delighted when he saw her name flashing on his phone after a week of no contact), but apparently it still did. The question left Sehun momentarily stunned before he begins to ponder, his mind searching for an answer that, hopefully, wouldn’t disappoint the girl because that’s the last thing he wants her to feel. These cross-country calls are getting rarer and rarer, what with the two of them getting more homework as the years progress and more commitments to other matters that obviously don’t include each other. And somewhere along the way, Sehun realises that. 

 

So he answers to the best of his ability. “Jongin’s great. He’s new, but he warms up to others quickly. You won’t believe how the sports clubs are fighting one another just to get him to join; he joined the dance club by the way. Oh, and he’s good with languages but terrible at math and science; so we help each other for those subjects because you know how awesome I am at both math and science” — Sehun can’t help but smirk, and Isobel scoffs — “yet I fail so horribly at anything to do with language. So yeah, Jongin’s been a good friend.” 

 

And Isobel’s hum of a response makes Sehun’s heart soar, only to plummet back down when instead of a reply, she asks,  _ “You do like him, right? As a friend?” _ Then a pause.  _ “Because all you’ve been saying was how he’s helping you out in class and how he is in class. You didn’t mention how he’s treating you as a friend.”  _

 

The silence on Sehun’s end must have informed Isobel of the boy’s sudden downcasted mood, for she quickly adds,  _ “I’m not chiding you, Hun, I just want answers to my question.”  _

 

“You already know that I’m bad at comprehension…” 

 

_ “Well. Try.”  _

 

And silence becomes the white noise that fills the call, as Sehun once again wanders through his thoughts to come up with an answer that will,  _ please please please _ , satisfy his childhood friend’s curiosity. It isn't his fault that he can't properly answer her question; but it isn't Isobel’s fault either. The girl always has been the analytical one between the pair, while Sehun is… well,  _ something else  _ between the pair. And that  _ something else  _ is apparently at work right now, if the cogs turning in his mind is any indication and  _ oh, how about that —  _ an answer pops up. 

 

Sehun softly murmurs his reply, and his childhood friend’s delighted gurgle ( _ I was drinking tea when you said that okay! _ ) is music to his ears. Also, Isobel’s reply stays in his head the entire day, causing him to crack small smiles at the most inopportune of times ( _ Stop smiling, son! You're freaking me out and I haven't had dinner yet! _ ). 

 

_ “I… like Jongin. He's a good friend. And… I like him.” _

 

_ “That’s great, Hun, that's wonderful. And oh, congratulations on perhaps finding another best friend!”  _

  
  


\---

  
  


“You owe me a meal, Sehun!”

 

“I do not… If anything,  _ you  _ owe me a meal too.” A scoff. “I helped you quite a bit for that math assignment.” 

 

“Well, I helped  _ you  _ for that English essay!” 

 

“...”

 

“Well?”

 

“Fine. How do you want to settle this, then?”

 

“Dinner. Tomorrow! At that Chinese restaurant Jia-noona’s been raving about. Is that okay with you?”

 

“... Okay.” 

  
  


\---

  
  


_ “H-Hel–” _

 

“EMERGENCY, BEL! CODE RED, CODE RE–”

 

_ “Wh-What?”  _

 

“EMERGENCY! IT’S AN EMERGENCY, BEL!!”

 

Isobel has gotten up by then, her back resting on the pillow she's got propped up against the wall. Her free hand rubs at her sleep-clouded eyes, and she wills her mind to kickstart itself even though she's switched it off hours ago. It's been a rough day, what with homework piling in left and right and other activities requiring her attention going on at school; why she joined the student council in her first year is beyond her comprehension (which is saying something since the girl’s language ability is amazing). Isobel’s barely catching her breath amidst it all, and just when she thought she'd be able to finally,  _ finally  _ get eight hours of sleep, her phone has to ring two hours in. 

 

_ “What's the emergency–”  _ The girl is so sleepy, she's unable to figure out the owner of the voice she's been hearing it scream at her; so she pulls her phone away from her ear and squints at the screen.  _ Ah _ .  _ “–Hunnie? You do know that you woke me up, right?”  _ And Isobel clucks her tongue in mock disapproval to get her point across. 

 

Sehun hears it. He also hears the playfulness behind it, so he ignores the sound to instead whimper, “It's really an emergency. Really.”

 

_ “Your comprehension skills are beyond help. You didn't answer the question again!!” _

 

A manly groan. “Ugh, stop harping on my language skills Isobel Lee! You know it's not helping!” 

 

_ “Well, you not answering the question isn't helping either! It's been–”  _ The girl squints at the screen again.  _ “–three minutes into the call and I still don't know what's your emergency!”  _

 

Sehun very much wants to punch himself in the face. He also very much wants to ignore the warning blaring in his head (once again) when he snaps, “Fine, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for having such inadequate language skills as compared to your  _ wonderful  _ ability to bullshit rainbows and unicorns out of nothing.” 

 

He really should listen to his mind. Because for the second time, he hears the dial tone in his ear, but this time, his childhood friend doesn't even bother to say goodbye. 

 

Though this time, Sehun only takes a second to call back. (Thankfully, she picks up;  _ thank god. Thank. God. _ )

 

_ “It must really be serious if you're calling me back this quickly.”  _ Isobel deadpans, and Sehun can visualise her scrutinising her nails whilst saying that. It's been three years, but some habits surely don't change. (And yes, he would know, having seen it, having  _ experienced  _ it firsthand.) 

 

“It is, Bel,  _ it is _ .” 

 

_ “So? Spill already.”  _

 

Sehun readies himself, his heart suddenly thumping hard for no reason as he inhales deeply. He can almost see Isobel rolling her eyes, but no matter, she won't understand. She will not get what he's feeling because– because–  _ well, just because _ . 

 

“Jongin asked me out for dinner.”

 

Silence. Then all hell breaks loose.

 

_ “Oh. Se. Hun. You called me at fucking midnight, screaming over the phone — and I swear I think my parents can hear your fucking hollers in their room next door — only to tell me that your emergency, your code red is just Jongin asking you out for a meal.”  _

 

Sehun thinks it's over. He's so wrong.

 

_ “FUCK YOU OH SEHUN I BARELY SLEPT FIVE HOURS EVERY NIGHT FOR THE PAST WEEK AND JUST WHEN I THOUGHT OH MY GOSH I CAN CATCH A FULL EIGHT HOURS OF SLEEP YOU JUST HAD TO CALL AND WHAT DID I GET FOR WAKING UP TO ANSWER? Oh ‘Jonginnie asked me out for a meal!’ FUCK YOU HUNNIE, FUCK YOU.”  _

 

Is it over? 

 

_ “You're horrible.” _

 

Well.

 

_ “You owe me a meal.” _

 

It’s over. 

 

But at the end of the day, Isobel still is Sehun’s childhood and best friend, so she gently says ( _ she is bipolar,  _ Sehun swears), “Are you okay then, Hun?” 

 

“If I was, would I still be calling you?” 

 

_ “... That’s true. And yes, I’m ignoring your sass on the pretext of you taking this dinner as a huge thing so don’t take advantage of this privilege.”  _

 

Sehun nods, but realises that Isobel’s unable to see it so he hurriedly agrees. “It actually shouldn’t be such a big thing, but–”

 

_ “But…?” _

 

“It’s just– It’s just that I haven’t had such a strong connection to anyone in the past three years since you moved away, and suddenly Jongin pops out of nowhere, carrying with him this insanely compatible-with-me personality and fucking warm smile that brightens up the entire room like the sun and he’s– he’s–” Sehun licks his lips, wincing when sharp pain shoots through him from those chapped lips. Damn, he doesn’t know what’s happening to him. Did Jongin’s searing heat light a fire in him or what? 

 

“He’s nothing like you but yet he feels so much like a best friend to me.”

 

An unsaid  _ and I’m scared that he will replace you in my heart  _ lingers in the air.

 

Silence once again befalls upon them, the tranquility that accompanies midnight wrapping around the boy and the girl as they listen to each other’s soft breathing. They don’t need to exchange words to know that they’re pondering over Sehun’s confession, both said and unsaid. 

 

_ “Hun.” _

 

“Yeah?”

 

_ “Don’t be afraid.” _

 

“Easy for you to say–”

 

_ “It wasn’t easy for me to say that, Sehun ah. Because– Be–”  _ The girl sucks in a sharp breath, but exhales slowly and gently before continuing,  _ “Because I’m afraid of losing you too. _

 

_ “But I was the one who had to leave, so I have neither power nor authority to tell you to not make new friends or find a new best friend just because I’m afraid of losing my childhood friend but honestly, Hunnie, I’m fucking frightened. You have no idea how scared I’d be if you don’t text or call me for any period of time ever since you got my number because actually, I don’t have any close friends over here at all.  _

 

_ “Because you’re so rooted in me as a person, as Bel who’s been Oh Sehun’s friend since she was in diapers, so it scares me to get someone else that’s not you as a best friend. And also, you’re irreplaceable, see?” _

 

Surprised is a severe understatement as Sehun listens (not hear, there’s a difference) to Isobel pouring her heart out. She’s never done it. Fifteen years and not once has Sehun has had the privilege of hearing his best friend’s heartfelt words. Sehun feels like crying. 

 

_ “But, Sehunnie, don’t let this fear of change stop you from doing what you want to do, what your heart tells you to do.”  _

 

“Bu–”

 

_ “The fact that I’m your best friend doesn’t change. You’ve just gotten yourself another best friend, that is all.” _

 

“Bel…”

 

The girl laughs, and it’s been so long since Sehun’s heard a laughter so genuine from her that he hears it as the melodious tinkles of wind chimes swaying in the wind. Gentle, soothing,  _ beautiful _ . 

 

_ “Isobel Lee and Oh Sehun are best friends forever, as childish as that sounds, but that’s what we promised each other when we were five and foolish but hey, it’s been ten years and aren’t we still best friends?”  _

 

“...”

 

_ “Sehun? Hun? Are you still there?” _

 

“I… am. I was just thinking.”

 

_ “Do what your heart says; it’s probably the right thing to do. And don’t worry, I’ll always be here as I have been for a decade so what’s another decade to me, right?” _

 

“I can’t hear anything over the loudness of your CHEESINESS, but yes, I shall do what I want to do.” 

 

Isobel hums liltingly in response.

 

“Thanks… Bel.”

 

_ “You’re most welcome, best friend.” _

  
  


( _ “And oh, you haven’t been having those nightmares anymore, right?” _

 

“I… haven’t. Not since Jongin became my friend.”

 

_ “Mm, see? Even your nightmares are afraid of your new best friend Kim Jongin! So what are you even hesitating for!” _

 

“...”

 

_ “Gosh I didn’t know I can leave you speechless. I’m amazing.” _

 

“I can’t hear anything over the loudness of your SARCASM.”)

  
  


\---

  
  


Fortunately, dinner went well. 

 

In fact, subsequent  _ dinners  _ after that dinner went so well too, that the boys have decided (over one of those dinners) to spend one summer break weekend over at Isobel’s city. They practically went on their knees and begged their respective pair of parents (namely Jongin doing just that because his dad and mum don’t know this  _ Bel  _ of Sehun’s) to let them take the train across the country and stay in a city they’ve only heard of but never travelled to. Thankfully, the adults said a-okay. 

 

And Sehun had shrilly announced their  _ magnificent  _ plan over the phone to the girl, ignoring the high-pitched splutters of  _ what the fuck  _ and  _ why didn’t you ask me before deciding _ , but of course, Jongin just  _ had to  _ plead in that pitiful tone of his and well, what can a girl do against two oversized puppies whining exaggeratingly into a phone. Isobel gave in. 

 

Which brings us to this current situation. 

 

“No.”

 

“Aww, c’mon Jongin ah.”

 

“I said no!”

 

“It’s just ice cream!” 

 

“It’s not  _ just  _ ice cream! It’s peanut butter-flavoured ice cream!”

 

Sehun stares at his  _ new  _ best friend of almost eleven months, his eyes widening in surprise as though Jongin’s sprouted another pair of ears atop of his head. A pair of puppy ears, to be exact. (Damn that Everland and their animal ears headbands;  _ who knew that Jongin is a sucker for amusement parks and their overpriced merchandise? _ ) “Is there something wrong with eating peanut butter-flavoured ice cream?”

 

“Yes!” Jongin’s eyes widen to the size of Sehun’s, before snapping shut and fingers come up to pinch the ridge of a tanned nose. “I mean, no! No, there’s no problem at all.”

 

“So what’s stopping you from sharing this tub with me?” Concern begins to flood Sehun’s orbs, as he continues to gaze at the boy sitting next to him on the couch. The Lees’ television’s switched on, and its speakers are blaring Isobel’s favourite boy band’s song (guess who!). But Sehun pushes the noise out of his mind to focus on the most important thing, person actually, in the room. “Are you like, allergic to peanut butter or something?”

 

Jongin suddenly gurgles and chokes. On nothing. Or air. He recovers quickly, to slightly shake his head and reply a soft, “No… I’m… not.”

 

“Now you’re talking!” Sehun roars, and promptly proceeds to scoop  the world’s largest spoonful of peanut butter-flavoured ice cream. Jongin’s orbs and mouth open simultaneously, to the extent of unattractiveness but whatever, no one’s looking because there’s literally nobody but them in the Lees’ family apartment. (Mr. Lee had kindly allowed the boys to stay with them, citing a complete waste of money on the boys’ part and a waste of their perfectly livable guest room on the Lees’ part.) 

 

The gaping mouth of Jongin invites Sehun to shove  the world’s largest spoonful of peanut butter-flavoured ice cream into it. But what happens next is totally unexpected and if Sehun hadn’t experienced it once before, he would have been traumatised for life. 

 

Because seconds later, all Sehun sees is Jongin suddenly clutching his throat with both hands as he gasps for air. His breaths are fast, lightning fast, and laboured, as though he’s panting after an insanely long marathon but no, the boy hasn’t done anything at all so how–  _ what’s going on?  _

 

The sound of a crash snaps Sehun out of his self-induced daze, and his eyes wildly dart around to search for the person that ought to be next to him. He finds Jongin behind the couch and on the floor. Sehun leaps off the back of the furniture instantly, eyes still flitting aimlessly as he tries to locate something,  _ anything  _ that would tell him what’s wrong with his best friend– 

 

He finds it.

 

“Shit, shit,  _ shit! _ ” Sehun then curses, as he scampers across the lacquer floor on his hands and knees, his mind unable to process anything else other than the goal to get to the Lees’ guestroom, to his bag as soon as possible and retrieve– “Got it!” 

 

He throws himself at Jongin, flinching when his miscalculated movement causes Jongin’s head to bump against a leg of the couch. But Jongin doesn’t seem to be registering any pain from that because his body’s too panicky, too busy trying to combat the rapid bouts of breathlessness and severe lack of oxygen due to a swelling throat and constricting airway. 

 

“Here goes nothing.” Sehun whispers timidly, and he plunges the object in his hand into his best friend’s outer thigh. Then, he prays.

  
  


\---

  
  


Sehun feels warmth on the crown of his head, rousing him from his fitful slumber, head lifting up from his hands. The heat’s signature feels so familiar, Sehun doesn’t need to see to know who it belongs to. “Jongin…?”

 

“H-Hey.” Jongin croaks in a voice so hoarse and rough that it causes him to wince in pain. He clears his throat and the fleeting scrunch of his nose doesn’t go unnoticed by Sehun, who drops his head as waves of guilt wash over him. 

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

The warmth on his head vanishes, and Sehun would have whined if not for it reappearing on his face. The tanned fingers that Sehun likes graze tenderly against his skin, as though Jongin’s afraid of hurting him; but Sehun knows otherwise — Jongin’s weak and frail right now and his strength isn’t there. 

 

And it’s all his fault.

 

“I’m really, really sorry, Jongin.” Sehun begins to trip over his words, his eyes having dropped from Jongin’s tender ones. Waves of guilt still crash over him, and when they recede back into a metaphorical ocean, they steal bits of his conscience. Pretty soon, Sehun will have nothing left. He won’t have a conscience, he won’t have a best friend. He won’t have Jongin by his side anymore. “If only I didn’t forc–”

 

“Stop.” 

 

Jongin’s cracking voice does nothing for Sehun’s gradual loss of himself. If anything, it seems to have sped up the process, as the tears that have unknowingly welled in Sehun’s eyes finally fall. Sehun jerks, clearly taken aback by the sudden wetness on his face, but before he can wipe them away, a hand that’s not his beats his own pair to the task. 

 

“Why are you crying?” Tendrils of heat emanate from Jongin’s thumb, cementing Sehun’s (childish) notion that Jongin could very well be the galaxy’s second sun in disguise, as those heat signatures join together as one before spreading over Sehun’s countenance as Jongin carefully swipes across his best friend’s cheek, successfully diverting those uncalled-for tears. “Silly.”

 

“Stupid.” Sehun mutters, eyes still unwilling to dart upwards to meet with Jongin’s own even though he feels the latter’s gaze calling for him to do so. “Foolish. Dumb. Moron. Idiot. These words suit me much better than ‘silly’.”

 

“And why do they suit you better, Hun-ah?” 

 

“Because I’m the one who got you here. On a bed.” Sehun grits his teeth as he forces himself to spit out the words that taste bitter, oh so very bitter, in his mouth. He doesn’t realise that his hands have clenched themselves, and in the midst of those hands lie a single hand of Kim Jongin. The boy mentally winces at the sudden tight grip around his hand, but his face doesn’t betray the slight pain. It does, however, instantly show his displeasure the moment Sehun spits out, “In the hospital.”

 

“Stop!” 

 

Jongin growls, and the feral sound has Sehun finally lifting his head and his eyes meeting his best friend’s for the second time since Jongin awoke. The furrow between Jongin’s brows and the scowl on his face slightly shocks Sehun, because  _ the sun doesn’t behave like that _ , but he’s more taken aback by the displeased hum that simmers within Jongin’s next words, “Stop blaming yourself!”

 

Sehun can’t react, his body not listening to his mind, for the mini shock has increased in size as his eyes take in Jongin’s darkening expression and mood. The sudden change in aura seems to have strengthened the boy, for Sehun feels searing breaths peppering his face as Jongin edges his face dangerously close to his best friend’s. They’re so close, Sehun can see the blemishes on Jongin’s skin. Heck, he can count the number of lashes lining the lids of Jongin’s eyes.

 

“Stop putting all the blame for this on yourself when I clearly am at fault too!” Jongin whispers, but his tone is harsh, harsh on himself because– 

 

“Because I didn’t tell you about my nut allergy!”

 

Jongin’s breath is searing, as the galaxy’s second sun should be, but Sehun hasn’t expected the boy to shove his face right at his. His best friend’s breath burns, and together with his own heated exhalation from his nostrils, Sehun feels as though his lips are on fire. The oxygen in the air doesn’t help with the metaphorical flame burning brightly upon them, and Sehun finds it extremely hard to breathe. Soon enough, the lack of oxygen sends his brain into a state of momentary shutdown. 

 

His brain’s so out of it, he himself so caught up in his own stupor that it takes a hard whack to the back of his head to pull Sehun back to reality. It takes another five seconds for his mind to register the pain, and the boy  _ finally  _ yelps, “What the f–”

 

“Took you long enough, Oh Sehun!” 

 

“–uc– Huh–” Sehun snaps his head in the direction of the familiar voice, his face flinching when his neck lets out a sickening  _ crack _ that causes a similar expression on the familiar face that greets him. “ _ B-Bel!? _ ”

 

“Well hello, two-time  _ allergy triggerer _ .” 

 

Someone behind Sehun bursts into laughter then, and Sehun whips back to find Jongin propping his chin on his knuckle, the crooked smirk he’s seen countless times over the months adorning his face. Colour has returned to his countenance, making Jongin look so much better, younger,  _ healthier _ . Sehun mentally heaves a sigh of utter relief. 

 

He does a double take a split second later. 

 

“Allergy triggerer!? What the hell!” 

 

And Sehun sulks heavily with his arms crossed when his best friends cackle for the next five minutes. (And wheeze due to lack of breathing for the following two minutes.)

  
  


\---

  
  


“Ah, I see. No wonder you called him  _ two-time allergy triggerer _ .” Jongin says, understanding flooding his orbs as he looks at  _ Bel _ , Sehun’s original best friend (as Sehun had introduced her). The girl had been telling him about Sehun’s first experience at witnessing an allergic reaction. An  _ almost  _ fatal allergic reaction caused by a spoonful of fish unceremoniously shoved into the mouth of a six-year-old Isobel by her childhood friend. 

 

(In response, Sehun keeps throwing her dirty glances because  _ I was six then, how the fuck was I supposed to know that you were allergic to seafood!  _

 

“Besides if you hadn’t had that allergy attack, I wouldn’t have had the habit of bringing around an Epipen.” Sehun drops to an audible yet serious whisper. “And if I didn’t have that lifesaver with me, Jongin wouldn’t be here right now.”

 

Jongin makes a mental note to thank Isobel later for indirectly saving his life.)

 

“Because he is,” Isobel scoffs, then mock-glares at a still pouty Sehun. “Trigger-happy dude.”

 

“How rude.” Sehun snarls, temporarily removing his face from the crook of his arm that’s resting on the back of the chair’s he’s been sitting on since Jongin moved into the ward the three of them are currently in. “I don’t want you as a best friend anymore.”

 

“The feeling’s mutual,” Isobel retorts, sticking out her tongue and the action has Sehun puffing out his cheeks in supposingly mock anger. “I don’t sure as hell don’t want  _ my  _ allergy to be triggered by you for a second time.”

 

Jongin looks on, thoroughly amused by the scene happening before him. The corners of his lips twitch, itching to spread into a knowing smile as warmth surges through him. He’s seen pairs of best friends before, he’s felt the breezes of friendship amongst them, but yet nothing compares to the hurricane blowing in the room. The camaraderie between the pair of best friends (currently engaged in a stare-down) is strong, super duper strong.  _ Invincible.  _

 

_ So this is the strength of a fifteen-year friendship.  _

 

Jongin’d be lying if he tells himself that he isn’t jealous. 

 

Sure, he’s had best friends before, but because of his father’s job, he’s moved across the country for at least three times in the past eight years. Those best friends never withstood the trials of time and distance, and months or sometimes weeks later after each move, Jongin would find himself best-friendless, and unbearably lonely. 

 

So when he moves to his most recent city, Jongin tells himself to not get attached to anyone here. But that seemingly headstrong determination crumbles the moment he befriends a sleepy Oh Sehun on his first day. Sometimes when he looks back, Jongin regrets forgetting to bring his pencil because  _ if I had, I wouldn’t have Sehun as a friend _ . Yet at the same time, Jongin finds himself smiling as his first sight of Sehun swims into his mind. He chuckles at his best friend’s bleary eyes, the sleepy expression on his face and the sloth-like way his body moves to retrieve the  ~~ damned ~~ pencil from his case. Honestly, Jongin doesn’t regret not bringing his pencil that fateful day because  _ if I had, I wouldn’t have Sehun as a friend.  _

 

_ As a  _ **_best_ ** _ friend.  _

 

But it’s hard to not be jealous of someone who, even though clearly hasn’t seen her best friend in the flesh for three years, interacts so easily and friendly with the person whom he’s seen almost every day for the past few months. It’s as though those three years of separation never existed. And Jongin feels a little upset, a little left out–

 

“Jongin?” 

 

A voice that he hasn’t heard his name being called in pulls him out of his thoughts, and Jongin finds himself at the center of attention, two pairs of concerned eyes gazing at him. He feels at ease with the more familiar pair, yet strangely, he doesn’t feel perturbed by the other. 

 

“Are you alright? Should I drag this idiot– (“Hey!”) –out and let you rest?” Isobel asks, her eyes holding steadfastly against Jongin’s round ones. On the contrary, her voice shakes and she’s so sure both boys can hear the tremble in her words as she addresses Sehun’s  _ new  _ best friend for the first time. “Would you… like that?” 

 

“I…” Jongin begins to say, his hand coming up to rub at his nape as he tries to put his honest feelings, what he would really like, into words. Fortunately, his awesome-at-language mind doesn’t disappoint. 

 

“I would like to get to know you better. Is… that alright, Isobel?”

  
  


\---

  
  


“No way.”

 

_ “Yes way!” _

 

“You’re fucking me.”

 

_ “I am so not! And besides, I wouldn’t fuck you! That would be gross and totally incest.” _

 

“I have no such sister like you!”

 

_ “Wha–” _

 

“He’s kidding, Bel, don’t take this idiot’s words to heart. You know how dumb–”

 

“Hey!”

 

“–he is.” 

 

Laughter.  _ “Right you are, Jongin.”  _

 

“Fine, the best friends are ganging up on me. Again.”

 

A loud whack and someone yelps in pain. “Ignore him. Anyway, when are you arriving with your stuff?” 

 

_ “I shipped them out yesterday, so they should be arriving at the apartment within the week while I’ll be arriving the day after tomorrow. At–”  _ Sounds of paper rustling.  _ “–noon, around one?”  _

 

“Sehun and I will be at the train station for you!” 

 

A sickening  _ crack  _ of somebody’s neck. “What! I most certainly didn’t agree to any picking up! Kim Jongin, you’re going alone! I ain’t picking up this rude stranger!”

 

_ “The feeling’s mutual, you jerkwad.” _

 

“Don’t worry, I’ll tie him up and drag him there if I have to. There’s no way he’s missing your first step back into this city.” 

 

Laughter.  _ “Thanks Jongin. Can’t wait to see you guys already, it’s been too long. It’s been, what, two years since I sent you guys off after that summer break weekend fraught with danger no thanks to a certain two-time allergy triggerer.”  _

 

“Thanks for reminding me that I  _ almost  _ killed my two best friends, Bel.  _ Thanks _ .”

 

_ “You’re most welcome.” _

 

“You two are so adorable. I’m so fortunate to be best friends with you guys.”

 

_ “Well, hah, the feeling’s extremely mutual about that.” _

 

Silence.

 

_ “I’m guessing Sehunnie doesn’t feel the same?” _

 

“I– I do.” A fond hum. 

 

“I’m very blessed to have you two as my best friends.” 

  
  


\---

  
  


“Bel!”

 

“Sehunnie! Jongin!” 

 

“You’re here! You’re finally here, fellow university mate!” 

 

“I am, Jongin, I am.”

 

“...”

 

“Oh my god, Sehun’s shy?!” 

 

“I think he is, Jongin-ah, I think–”

 

“Welcome home–”

 

“–h– oh.”

 

“– _ best friend _ .”

  
  



End file.
